


The Girl is Not Alright

by DeathDirt



Category: TMNT - Fandom
Genre: Gen, OC, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9581918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathDirt/pseuds/DeathDirt
Summary: Some people get lucky in superhero flicks. They become incredibly powerful, a rise from the slums, getting a better life. Not this one. This one got no lucky breaks, no easy path. This poor girl was okay as a human. At least she had some friends. Now, though...she's as good as dead to the world.





	

Winter was coming.

Not in the super-annoying meme way that everyone giggled at for some reason. In the 'I might die tomorrow night' way. The poor girl was shivering in the alley corner, trying to stay alive with scraps she'd fished from the garbage. She never knew comfort, even before this, but this was more intense because she was an ectotherm now. She was a turtle now. It almost hurt to sit or stand or have any skin on the asphalt.

Why was it her that got stuck as this thing? Why not some raping, womanizing jerk that actually deserved it? She was stuck, but she tried not to let it get to her. Nothing got to her. Not because she was some happy-go-lucky schoolgirl that was all about kitties and unicorns and rainbows, but because she was so used to it. 

When she was born, her father was barely there and her mother was hardly conscious, so she got named after a beer. Then little baby Corona got tossed out to the nearest family so her parents could go fuck some more. For a while, it was fine. And then, she had to up and move, across the country, no less, trading sunny days, clear skies, and beautiful beaches for smog, pollution, and jerks. Then high school hit and she wanted to kill everyone with her fantasy screamo kitty-cats. Then, finally settling in, she was slammed with this weird, glow-y green glop while she was hanging out with her pet turtle, Noko. And now...she was probably going to die.

At least nobody bothered her like they used to. 

As if that was some kind of consolation.

Corona paused in her shivering, glancing at the manhole cover. She'd been down in the sewers a few times before, but never stayed long. She always lived in slums, but she never could get used to the sewer smell. If it kept her alive, though... Corona sighed. "Well... It's either sewers or death. And, unfortunately, I'm not quite suicidal enough to stay up here. So...down we go." Talking as if Noko still rode in the little bag that Corona used to always carry with her. If only...

The teen, after struggling to her feet and working some feeling into her arms by getting the manhole cover off, made the tedious climb down into the stinky, humidness of the sewer. After standing still, fading in and out of consciousness a few times, Corona felt decidedly better. She turned left and started down the sewer tunnel, if only because it didn't seem to smell so bad. It took some time, but she finally got to a monstrous tunnel, a few bones placed here and there along the length. 'What was it that people needed these things for...? Oh right...' "It's a cow tunnel," she said to herself, hearing the sound echo off the walls. 

It almost felt fun. So she did it again. "Moooooo." The 'moo' bounced right back to her and she sniggered. "You could have at least bought me a drink first," she muttered, shrugging at nothing but her own lack of humor. The cow tunnel wasn't as good as the smaller tunnels she'd started out in, but it was more bearable than staying in an alley. At least it didn't make the scars on her legs and sides hurt so much as the cold. Those things...Corona hated them just as much as her parents.

And she forgot them just as quickly.

Something squeaked a little ways down. It was a black rat, and it didn't seem as big or as mean as what she'd seen before, but Corona stayed away, regardless. She wasn't sure if she wanted to risk getting sick without any family to care for her or doctors to go to...none that wouldn't want to dissect her, anyway. No, now the only ones she could rely on were herself and her stuffed kitty, Ditto. Childish, yeah, whatever, but it made Corona feel safer, somehow. Not as alone in a world that could care less about her.

A world that hadn't cared for her since the day she was born. The thought came back to her as she stared at the worn little calico that she'd had with her since she was 2. It made her angry. It made her want to break everything around her. If the world couldn't bother to care for her...well, the feeling was fucking mutual. Corona could care less about the world. She grit her teeth, gripped her bicep so much it hurt, and then her chest started hurting. The rest of the world didn't care... 

She was probably going insane, and nobody could be bothered to give a damn. Not the squeaking vermin in the sewer. Not her dumbass parents who birthed her and sent her off without a word. Nobody. So be it. Corona hugged Ditto to her chest, hugged him tight, pretending he was alive, that he was mewing in her arms, that he was comforting her. She wanted to scream. And she did. She stared into the darkness ahead of her, and she screamed. She wailed for so long, she couldn't remember how long it took for her to realize she'd broken down. Couldn't tell when her eyes had started watering. 

She almost wanted to go back to the street and scream again, but rather than breaking down...she wanted to break. She wanted to destroy everything. She wanted to make everyone else suffer. Make everyone, anyone, feel unloved, feel like they couldn't be cared about. Anything. Anything she could do to get this ache out of her chest. Corona leaned against the wall, hugging her knees and her stuffed cat to her chest, wishing again and again for someone to come and take care of her.

Nobody did. Nor would they. Corona sat there, scars relaxed, eyes red, tears streaking her cheeks, and her cat Ditto sitting silently in her lap. Ditto was the only one who'd stayed with her. Everyone else alienated her. Rejected her. Threw her away. Anyone or anything that could make it stop, she'd take them. Of course she would. 

Sitting alone with her Ditto in the cow tunnel, Corona thought. For a long time, she sat and she thought. How could she, someone who, in her own eyes at least, couldn't be cared for, couldn't be worth taking a second glance at, do anything against this bitch called Life. This bitch that, like so many rich fuckers, made herself out to be some pretty, beautiful, sexy goddess, when underneath all the glamour, all she was was a dirty, nasty, slimy bitch. What could she do? ...She had an idea.

It started out small. So insignificant and dumb, she waved it off at first. Then it came back. It sounded better, but still not much to listen to. Then it came back a third time.  
And it stayed.  
And it grew. It started as a faint idea, a morsel of an idea, an idea of an idea, and it did the same thing reptiles did best - eat and grow. It ate at her patience, and it grew into a grand idea. It became something. Then, for who knew how long, Corona found a way to train herself. She used street thugs, old rotten carcasses, utility knives, pocket knives, even a machete she found once. 

At 15, two years after her self-imposed exile into the sewers, Corona was ready to go. She'd beaten her knuckles bloody, cut open her scars, run lap after lap up and down the cow tunnel she'd found, made a little tent and bed from blanket, sheet, mattress scraps, and she finally realized what she wanted that day, sitting alone in the sewer with little Ditto. She was going to go up there. Back to the surface. This wasn't for scrounging, for begging, no... This was to go up there, and to kill. To kill so many people who thought they were so much better than everyone else.

It was a grand idea.

And to think, it all started because a little newborn baby girl had drug-addict, alcoholic parents that threw her out and called her worthless.

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of an out-of-nowhere fic that I got a wild hair to do. It's just a random character creation thing. Eh, like it if you want, hate if you want.


End file.
